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ncil. At the time, it had not been a problem. It

was the Southern Mutes who had then been the enemy. The rumoured

existence of summoners had been reported by FINTEL, but on the few

occasions where their presence had been suspected, their intercession

had failed to halt the advance of the Federation.

The Family had therefore concluded that the alleged power of these

individuals did not'pose a serious threat to future operations. The

danger came from uncontrolled rumours and wild speculation about Mute

magic within their own ranks. But instead of ending all ill-informed

discussion of the subject, the imposition of sanctions had merely

driven it underground.

With the move north into Plainfolk territory the nature of the conflict

had changed. The days of easy victories were over and the earlier

blanket denial of Mute magic had left the present leaders of the First

Family on the hook. This was a chance to slide off it and score a few

Brownie points in the process.

Given the latest situation reports from Wyoming and Nebraska, the call

for the reinstatement of Commander Hartmann and his crew could not have

come at a more opportune moment. Conceding to the rebel's demands

provided the First Family with an opportunity to bring its secret

OPERATION SQUARE-DANCE to successful conclusion.

That fact would only become apparent with hindsight, but it did not

mean that all would be forgiven and forgotten. Hartmann and his

executives had been the catalyst which caused a simmering discontent to

crystallize into open rebellion. The protest might have been

restrained, short-lived and totally justified, but it was a direct

challenge to the First Family's inalienable right to rule from the top

down.

What made it worse was the fact that the rebellion had been

well-organized and had not been foreseen. Such appalling laxity on the

part of security services could not go unpunished. Sooner or later

everyone concerned would be dealt with. No one got the better of the

First Family and lived to tell the tale. And among the first to learn

that harsh lesson would be the crew of The Lady from Louisiana.

CHAPTER TWO

Commander James Fargo, the wagon-master of Red River, had seen plenty

of Mutes at close-quarters during his time on the overground but they

had all been dead, dying, or framed in his gun sights. Killing Mutes

was what he had been trained to do. He had never once imagined that a

day would come when he was required to play host to two live

lump-heads. But they were here.

Cosseted aboard Red River.

It was a strange feeling. As far as he knew, this was the first time

Mutes had ever sullied the interior of a wagon train with their

poisonous presence, and it was a dubious honour he would have preferred

to do without.

But orders were orders. Even so, he felt he should have been taken

into the confidence of his other guests, a seven-man task-force from

the White House complete with their own secure lines of

communications.

From the moment the two Mutes had come aboard, it was clear they were

not true lumpheads and - to judge from the flurry of coded signals

flowing between the task force and Grand Central - might be something

else entirely.

As the top-rated wagon-train in the Federation, Red River had, for many

years, been involved in the delivery and collection of a number of

individuals whose reason for being on the overground had never been

fully explained but who were clearly engaged in some form of covert

activity. Since the soldier-citizens of the Federation were members of

one vast army whose chain of command led back to the White House, these

individuals had to be working for the First Family but, to date, no one

had ever discovered the name or the precise function of the unit they

belonged to.

Fargo knew it was unwise to enquire further. No one